Old Friends, Old Enemies
by jrogers
Summary: This is my take on how the season finale continues.
1. Chapter 1

This is my first chapter story, I just hope there is a season two for a comparison.

The whole interrogation hinged on this one moment. He had been prepping for this one lie. As he answered questions and let himself be found out earlier it was all to insure he could make this one statement and be believed.

"Why don't you go bug Baptiste, he is the one that blew up the boat, killed a good man, he lost your book." Mr. GQ, or so he was calling him, paused in front of him. Jar suspended in the air his mind processed what he was being told, judging how truthful Chance was being. Just as Chance thought he was at least in the clear on the third jar dropping, he saw a far away look come into those eyes, and he knew something had just went wrong with his plan.

"No police, all that fighting, the shooting, the explosion. Where were the police?" Straightening up, he snatched up his coat and found a place to abandon the jar heading out into the other room. Chance's mind reeled with this turn of events. This wasn't in his plan, he tried to glance through the security glass that separated the rooms without expecting to glean any knowledge, but as he did he knew he had to move quickly. He had wanted to turn the tide back toward Baptiste, but somehow Winston had ended up in the line of fire.

He started a monologue with the guard as he tried to casually set himself up for attack. As he was ready to move the guard seemed to get a distracting message through his headset, not waiting for a better opportunity he moved. Flipping the chair with his feet, smashing the last jar against the guard's helmet he lunged for the hidden weapon under the table, slicing his bindings he used it efficiently to put the guard down. He heard gunfire erupt form the rest of the building. He felt glass crunch into his bare feet as he made a beeline for the gun stashed in the next room. The former occupant had taught him as much even after he was gone as he had when he was alive about playing this game, this deadly game.

As he took down 3 guards and skidded to a stop where he knew the others were being kept he was stunned, it was empty. All the main players were missing, just expendable help was still slinking around. Mr. GQ had leapt to the wrong conclusion and now it appeared Winston was going to pay for Chance's miscalculation. He heard someone approach from behind and realized his screw ups weren't over. He was about to be gunned down and never have a chance to make his Winston mistake right. His body flinched with the sound of the gunshots but feeling no repercussions from it he spun to confront the threat, stunned yet again at the figure that presented itself to him.

His mind reeled at the sight of the old man. His body was starting to feel physically ill as all these events unfolded. "Hello, Junior", just hearing it made a bad taste form in Chance's mouth. Giving vent to his frustrations he pulled the trigger twice, feeling both disappointment and relief when it clicked empty. The shocked look on the old man's face made the disappointment bloom again, he was now wishing the shocked looked was mixed with pain from the bullets that weren't there. But in his usual style the old man recovered and stepped forward remarking offhandedly about saving his life, something he refused to acknowledge.

Work together, is that what he just heard, shaking his head in denial he refuted "I'm not going anywhere with you" which should have set the man straight, but a personality that hadn't changed since they met showed through one that was accustomed to things being done his way. "I don't think you have a choice right now"

Yes he was going after Winston but on his own, not with this snake, he didn't need him. Then they both froze as they heard a gun cock, Chance started grinning on the inside as he heard Guerrero's voice backing him up. No way he needed the old man now he thought as Carmine added his two cents.

"My chopper will be leaving from the marina in 1 hour, be there." He turned and gave Guerrero a dismissing look down the end of the barrel pointed at him and walked off. Chance thought for a second Guerrero was going to finish what his empty gun had been unable to do, but for whatever reason he passed this time.

Watching his retreating back until he was out of their sight they both turned back around to lock eyes. Guerrero's mouth opened, but Chance shook his head negatively, no talking yet. Chance scanned the floor, it was dangerous to stay where they were without securing the building, but time was not something they had. He glanced back at Guerrero and saw him looking at the floor, he looked down to see he was leaving a bloody trail of footprints, he could feel the glass grinding into the pads of his feet. Guerrero's mouth opened again but he shook his head and motioned for him to follow. They headed toward the stairs while Carmine laid down, his work done for the moment.

He lead them up to the bathroom, motioning Guerrero inside he shut the door and turned on the shower full blast along with the sink taps. With the cover of the noise, he rummaged around in the cabinet for tweezers to address his feet issues. Guerrero arched an eyebrow at his paranoia but shrugged and began to talk, rummaging around in the cabinet for what Chance would need after picking out the glass. "Where's Winston? What did the old man mean about meeting him on the chopper? What happened to your feet?" Chance paused from balancing on one foot and glanced up with a little bit of a smirk on his face. It was rare that Guerrero was rattled and showed it, but it appeared today's events had done it. Chance didn't blame him and for a second it was a little thing that took his edge off for a moment. Guerrero scowled back as he realized he was babbling, but the realization also seemed to relieve his tension too. Chance went back to concentrating on the glass, wincing as he tried to pull a piece out. Guerrero grabbed the tweezers from his hand and pushed him into a seated position on the commode. Pulling the bloody appendage up and over the sink bowl he began none to gently to pull the glass out, causing Chance to grab behind him for the support of the shower so as not to be upended off his perch.

With self reproach in his voice Chance tried to bring him up to speed, " I was trying to steer our interrogator back toward Baptiste regarding the book, but it backfired and he zeroed in on Winston instead. I assume he took him now believing he knows where the book is."

"The book is lost, no one has it." Guerrero stated as he plucked another sharp piece out and pinged it into the sink. When Chance didn't respond he glanced up and his eyes narrowed.

"I have the book" Chance admitted, Guerrero's narrowed eyes widened in disbelief.

"No one has the book" Guerrero stated again with a little more force, correcting Chance's facts in the story. The continued silence made Guerrero pause in his ministrations. "You've had the book all this time" his voice held disbelief and a little hurt. Hurt that Chance had kept this to himself.

"This situation is exactly why I didn't tell anyone" after a pause "Not even Carmine" he searched Guerrero's face to see if his attempt to soften his hurt had helped, but judging by the set of his jaw it had not. "Listen that book is dangerous and I thought everyone believed it was lost, heck, look at this mess we're in now because of it. " He sighed and closed his eyes, a mess where again someone who didn't deserve it was going to be paying the price he should be.

"Hey" Guerrero brought him back to the present, "you did what you had to, SO what are we going to do now?" Guerrero finished extracting glass from the one foot and slathered antiseptic on it. Chance gasped in a breath at the sudden sting and shot him a dirty look. Ignoring it, he dropped it down off the sink and levered the other foot up. Chance took the opportunity to collect his thoughts, "Main thing is that book cannot get into anyone's hands. Look, I know you have family to look after, you can walk away from this right now" Guerrero looked up and opened his mouth to form a comment, anger clear on his face.

"Dude, if you think I would cut and run on this situation…" he let it trail off, the words still fresh in his mind that it was his fault someone had tracked Chance down. "Listen I have taken precautions regarding that situation, don't even figure it in right now."

Chance nodded "Ok, if you are sure" He received a grunted affirmation.

"Something is not right in this whole set up today but I can't put my finger on it and don't have time to figure it out at the moment. So I am going to keep my enemies close, which means," a pause with hesitation "going with him." They way he said those last three words caused Guerrero's skin to crawl. A deep breath continued with "This is what I need you to do"

For the next 15 minutes as Guerrero finished up with the other foot, he listened as Chance outlined his plan and the bathroom filled up like a steamy rain forest with humidity. At the end Guerrero gave serious consideration to the fact that this might be the last time he saw Chance, considering the plan. Their careers had always left that as a high possibility, but listening to this plan and his demeanor regarding his immediate travel plans, Guerrero would admit he was scared.

Chance gingerly stood up on his doctored feet and poised his hand to turn off the shower, giving Guerrero one last look to make sure there were no questions before they exited their powwow. He shook his head as he put items back in the medicine cabinet and turned the sink off as Chance turned the shower off. Exiting the bathroom Chance began up a conversation for the benefit of others if such was the case.

" I am going to get changed, can you drop me off at the marina?" he directed a little loudly as he switched clothes and found some white socks for his feet, not that they would stay that way for long. Guerrero began making a mental list of what was going to be required of him and he started down the stairs. His eyes landed on Carmine, well he could stay at his neighbors while things were going down.

He saw Chance come down the stairs ready to go, carrying nothing. Guerrero gave him a questioning look, making the universal symbol for a gun with his hand. Chance shook his head negatively as he approached, calling out "ready to go?"

Guerrero answered with a "yes" as he scowled about Chance's choices. Whistling for Carmine as they headed to the elevator, both slowed with caution again as they were reminded of the carnage that had happened there today. As they stepped over debris and bodies, Chance checked his watch, they were cutting it close on the time limit but he was fairly sure no one would leave without him, especially if he was being watched and "they" knew he was on his way.

As they left the building and headed for the car, Guerrero veered off toward a different vehicle. Chance gave him the questioning look now, for which he received "you aren't the only one who is paranoid." As they got in the private space of the car Guerrero berated him, "You can't go in there unarmed, without a phone or a way for me to track you"

"Listen this is the guy that knows all the tricks, he taught me, if I try to go in there and pull something I am going to get caught fast. The one thing that may throw him off is me going in with no tricks, he will be looking for something and not being able to find it may give me the edge I need over him. It is all I have at the moment, sorry."

Guerrero started the car and headed out, the sick feeling in his stomach churning away. They were all off balance and it wasn't getting any better, he had to let Chance take off with no way to track him, into a situation that he knew had Chance off balance because of who he was having to return to work with. He could leave now and Guerrero might never know what happened to Chance or Winston, they could disappear never to be heard from again. He shuddered; he was not used to this side of the coin. He was the one who threw terror into people.

They rode in silence as they approached the marina, the closer they got they could see the chopper waiting with the old man ramrod straight standing outside waiting.

Yup Chance was sure now he was keeping tabs on them As they pulled up they both hesitated on getting out, small talk bounced between the two.

"Keep an eye on those feet, dude"

"Keep an eye on Carmine"

Both looking for ways to delay the inevitable and finding none they finally broke eye contact. Getting out they slowly made their way toward the chopper, when Guerrero reached the limit of approach for someone not boarding Chance turned back around, "You know what to do, right" a command, a quiet pleading command.

Chance too knew that once he boarded that chopper he was in the most danger he had been in probably in his life.

"No problem, I'll see you on the other side", they were not into emotional scenes but this was heavy. Chance nodded and turned to go, "Chance," Guerrero yelled. Chance turned around, a slight hope in his eyes that his trip was going to be called off by a miracle.

"We're going to get him back" Guerrero knew it was lame and cliché but it was all he had. The hope was quickly replaced by resignation in Chance's eyes, making Guerrero want to beckon him back, convince him there was another way. Before anything could stop him Chance turned and boarded the chopper without even a glance at the old man. As the chopper headed east Guerrero saw Chance continue to keep eye contact with him out the chopper door window until it was physically impossible.

Guerrero turned back toward the car and could finally hold it in no longer, after dry heaving beside the car he wiped his mouth on his sleeve and parked himself in the driver seat. With no prompting question from Carmine, he told him "We will get them both back."


	2. Chapter 2

Winston lay trussed up like the proverbial turkey, complete with blind fold. He was sure he was on a plane, but beyond that he knew nothing else. He tested his bonds again, ignoring the pain it produced before stilling his body in defeat one more time. As he lay there he rewound to the beginning of the day, how a casual meeting between the three to wrap up a case ended here.

Experience had taught him that when they wrapped up a case and he started totaling expenses, it was an exercise in frustration for him to try to account for everything on his own. Yet, when talking to Chance and Guerrero separately, he made no headway either. This time he was determined to sit them both in the same room so there would be no deferring questions to a later time. Now it appeared their last conversation together might be an inane argument over a $100 bowl of soup.

When the security alarms started to buzz or actually go offline at the office that morning, they had all looked at each other and broke into what appeared to be a well orchestrated plan. In reality each had simply split to a different area. Winston back to an area where he knew a weapon was kept hidden, Chance had flown up the stairs to gain some higher ground and Winston had no idea where Guerrero had gone. From that moment on they had not had an opportunity to converse verbally together again.

When he made his entrance, Winston did not recognize the apparent ring leader that had questioned them, and ultimately kidnapped him. He had no idea what book he was looking for, but for now felt it was in his own best interest to keep his mouth shut to everything. He barely dared to let himself hope for rescue, having no idea what had happened to his partners. Did he really think of Guerrero as a partner? Yes he did, sometimes not worth his weight in salt, but all the same he did.

The questioning today had all centered on that first case and Winston was starting to assume this had something to do with the old man that had been hounding Chance's psyche for years. At first he had been questioned very little, simply kept under guard away from the others. He had studied his captors but found little details to give him any information as to their identity or purpose. He turned from studying the guards to straining to hear what was going on in the other rooms. He heard glass breaking a couple of times but never any sounds of struggle or raised voices. He tried to look on the bright side of that and hope that the questioning so far was not straying into heavy handed tactics. As the afternoon had worn on he had been visited for more questioning and as a cop he recognized an interrogation by someone trying to piece a puzzle together.

Then things appeared to speed up, as if time had run out for their antagonist or he began to lose patience. As he was questioned this last time with the most intensity of the day by the man in charge, guards began to communicate with each other in earnest and he was hauled up out of his chair and out the door. With weapons trained on him he felt he had no chance to put up much of a fight. He had slowed them down as much as he could but each time a well placed jab to the kidney had sped him back up.

Although he heard gunfire in the building no one challenged them on their way out and those around him seemed calm as they pulled a hood over his head and shoved him into the back of a van. There was no squealing of tires or gunfire on the streets as they pulled away, just loading up and calmly taking off as a needle put him to sleep. He didn't know what to make of that yet, but he was sure it was significant. So now he lay face down in the carpet of what was probably a private jet.

With a hood on it was easy enough to continue to act as if he was out for the count and listen to what was going on around him, which wasn't much. He heard the man who had questioned them having a one sided conversation, probably on a phone. Every so often someone came by and prodded him in the ribs with their boot. That was the hard part, not letting out a startled groan when it happened. Then suddenly his blind fold was ripped off and caught off guard there was no denying now that he was awake.

* * *

Chance sat stiffly in his seat, he had kept a connection as long as he could with San Francisco through the window of the chopper, but once they had left its boundaries he found himself hard pressed to continue to stare out at nothing. Forcing himself to regain his composure he sat back and tried to treat this like any other case. Observing his surroundings, taking any information in he might be able to use in the future. He was surprised when he wasn't searched before boarding, kind of stole his thunder coming total unarmed and without communications, however, he was sure they would get around to it at landing.

Keeping tabs on how far and what direction they were traveling, he tried to surmise where they were going. The old man had many bases in and out of the country, and in six years there were probably some he wasn't familiar with now. He only hoped in an effort to rub his face in the past the old man would choose a base that would bring back memories, or for Chance give him the advantage of familiarity.

As they sat in silence, now for nearly an hour, Chance didn't know about the old man but it was grating on his nerves. What a chess game this was going to be on all levels between them. He forced himself to relax, close his eyes to his current surroundings and replay the day, see if he could pinpoint what was bothering him about it. He could feel the old man's eyes on him as he settled in, he guessed he better get used to it and not let it get under his skin.

Winston had called him and Guerrero in that morning for an impromptu ambush about expenses. He and Guerrero had been running Winston around the bend in the past blaming expenses on the other, and Winston had finally seen through their act. So as he and Guerrero had tried to continue their game of dodge the receipt while both were in the same room, he had only been half paying attention to the conversation going on that morning. As a stalling maneuver he had risen and headed to the kitchen for a snack distraction. It was then the buzz of one of their perimeter alarms went off. As he glanced over to check it he saw other monitors start to go to snow or dark. All three men had glanced at each other briefly before taking off for safer parts. He had bounded up the stairs looking to change things up, not even taking time to see where the others disappeared to. He heard a massive amount of glass break and an explosion, metal and wood echo as it bounced through the warehouse. He had no idea how many assailants they were getting ready to confront, but he was sure it was more than just a few by the sounds of it.

Using stealth as his friend he had easily taken down one guard, and using that guard's clothing had postponed Carmine's early fate while disabling another. He had been on a roll when it all came to a halt as he glanced down to the lower level and saw Winston and Guerrero detained. Whoever was behind this, he knew his group was now in a load of trouble.

As the obvious man in charge walked in, Chance could tell by the looks on everyone's face that he was unfamiliar to them all. Separated into their own areas for questioning, Chance could only wonder what was said to the others. As the afternoon wore on and the questioning continued despite GQ's denials that he worked for the old man, Chance now knew what was bothering him. There was no concern for the amount of time their adversaries spent there questioning them. When "the breach" of his security happened they were well prepared to disappear, almost too well prepared, like it been expected.

Chance had to resist the urge to open his eyes and stare the old man down. These two were working together, trying to play the trio as if they were caught in a crossfire between two fighting factions, he was sure of it. As he thought through their motivation Chance knew both men wanted the book back and had possibly combined forces once they had tracked Chance down. He could play that game as well. He let himself relax even more now with this knowledge, realizing sleep was a commodity that might be hard to come by in the near future. Since it would be needed he let himself doze off, a small smile on his face. Doing it in the presence of the old man should tick him off.

* * *

Chance's instructions to Guerrero had been to unearth the book from its hiding place. Acting as if Guerrero was a rookie he had emphasized that he should make sure no one was following him. Really now, that had hurt. This book had become more valuable than anything they had ever dealt with in the past; Chance seemed to feel it was worth more lives than should ever be put at risk. At a minimum it was worth all their lives and if it should fall into other hands now, then there would be no reason for any of them to be kept alive while at the mercy of their enemies. Chance had been adamant that at no cost should it be handed over, not for trade of anyone's life. However, he did need some proof of the book which would consist of a couple of well chosen pages torn from it. So for the next 3 hours he used every trick he new to make sure no one was tracking him in any way, shape or form. He also used that time to deposit Carmine at his neighbors where he would be taken care of until this was over and to pack some items for his upcoming trip.

Once he was confident no one could possibly track him he proceeded to follow the rest of the directions. First he had to pick up some scuba gear, of course paying in cash and obtaining it from a location far from where he would use it. Then he went to the location Chance had pointed out on a map, a private beach. It crossed his mind that he was acting like a pirate treasure hunter, but he sobered quickly as he remembered the real reasons why he was here.

After gearing up and testing his equipment he swam out about forty feet from the beach along a rocky cliff line and found an entrance to a cave right where it should be. Turning on the flashlight he had brought he swam down through the entrance and along the claustrophobic tunnel. After several hundred feet, just as he began to feel like he might have to swim backwards to get out of here the tunnel began to widen. He emerged into a pool area where the cave domed high overhead. He flashed the light around and watched it sparkle off the natural rock minerals.

Taking his mask off he prepared to get down to business but after one inhale of breath he realized how bad the air was here and quickly put his breather back in. Shining his light around again along the waterline it glinted off a group of stones piled in a corner. As he pushed them away he found buried shallowly under the sand the silver sealed briefcase he was seeking. He opened it carefully and began to peruse through the pages, his mind reeling at what he read. Chance was right, even to his greedy and low standard mind he could hardly grasp the havoc this could cause. He looked around with paranoia then berated himself for his skittishness.

He found the two pages he was looking for, and ripped them out, folding them neatly into a waterproof pouch he brought. He replaced everything else as he had found it and headed back out of the cave. A sudden decision when he reached the entrance to the cave had him heading in the opposite direction from whence he came. Swimming a good distance he emerged onto the beach miles in the opposite direction from his car. As he emerged from the cold water he promised himself he was going to take a long vacation somewhere hot when this was over, to warm up and calm down, his nerves were already shot. He secured his gear behind a rock, out of site and safe for awhile. This area didn't look too populated with tourist. He walked a few miles down to a public beach and caught a bus back to town. He would come back tomorrow and retrieve his car and equipment, after the pages were stowed away safely off his person.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the long wait, RL has been keeping me busy.

When Chance awoke he checked out the window to find night had fallen and they were descending in their altitude for a landing. He recognized the area; they were headed into southern Texas. He was looking at a large house located on hundreds of acres of land. It would rival some of the houses the Princess had access to. The main house had over 15 rooms alone, not to mention all the structures set away from the main one. After you figured in staff, so called security, rooms for visiting clients and of course the main dwellers it took a lot of room to house them all. All the rooms and décor available to visitors were of the highest standards of luxury. Even the staff who stayed in the main house didn't want for much, except maybe freedom and privacy.

He took his time, making a production of stretching and moving around to wake up. He noticed his chopper companion was talking on the phone but the conversation was cut short when he noticed Chance's movement. Not that he could have overheard anything with all the noise. As they touched down and the blades slowed in their rotation they exited the chopper and moved to a safe distance away. The old man turned and stopped him as soon as they cleared the blades. Two security guards met them and the old man inclined his head at Chance. Both guards knew their jobs and what was expected, one spun him around to face the other guard and begin patting him down. Chance stood and gave a cold stare to the guard that blocked him from the front as he accepted the search. The old man was already entering the house when the guards stood aside to let him pass, flanking him closely behind as he headed toward the door.

As they entered the house the old man threw back at Chance as he started up the stairs "You know where the guest rooms are, find one and we can reconvene in the morning."

"No way, you wanted to talk, lets go-now" Chance had steel in his voice as he headed in the direction he new the library was in. His escorts hesitated as they looked to their boss for direction, which he evidently indicated meant keep him in sight. They quickened their pace to catch up when Chance abruptly turned around and ran into one of them.

"Hey, sorry about that, why don't you go and have the kitchen bring us some sandwiches, I'm famished." Just as abruptly he turned around and headed back on his way. The guards stood still, again looking for direction from the boss. With a disgusted look on his face, reflecting that intelligent help was hard to find, he gave another nod of his head for him to follow through on the suggestion. Gathering up the other guard with a glance to follow him to the library, he followed after a man who caused him to burn with a desire for revenge from the past.

As Chance quickly outdistanced the others on his way to the library, he felt the guard's cell phone in his hand, easily filched during their accidental encounter. He quickly opened it up and sent a text message to a burner phone Guerrero had, simply the number 2. They had agreed earlier on a signal, a number corresponding with the different locations they were familiar with; a 0 would have meant an unknown location with other information to follow. Pocketing the phone as he pushed through the doors, he heard the footsteps approaching, so he found a chair to wait comfortably in.

The old man paused at the door then came in as he closed them, leaving the guard outside. He slowly settled himself behind the desk, taking time to look through papers piled up in his absence, playing a waiting game.

"Ok let's talk, what information can you give me on this guy?" Chance broke the silence.

"Well now I am not so sure how much of that information you need."

"Listen I came here to work together to get Winston back and you to get your book back" he spat. "If you have other games to play then I can be gone. I can waste time on my own tracking him down as easy as I can waste it here."

"Such a hurry, your friends tough, a little time isn't going to matter one way or the other." He reached across the desk and poured himself a drink.

Chance motioned as if to stand up and leave, causing a laugh out of the old man.

Chance was seething with anger as he stood, his blood pressure pounding in his head. Why did he let him get to him so easy? Man, this was going to be hard, he thought. Hate was all he thought he felt for him. But mixed with the hate was a desire to make the old man see his wrong ways, and a little bit of him hoped he would see the light like he had. He turned abruptly away as if to examine something on a shelf.

"Your future here was guaranteed, a comfortable future running things and you threw it all away. Why?"

"What does this have to do with now? I need information on your "client" to find your precious book and Winston."

"It has everything to do with now" the old man's voice rose, then it went deadly calm. "It was your lack of loyalty that caused the book to be lost in the first place. After all I did for you then and saved your life now, you welcomed me with a couple of bullets"

He spun back around quickly "Loyalty! You were quick to order me dead when I questioned your orders, just consider me following your example." This was getting him nowhere and he could feel some of the old mans motives coming through. The old man still wanted him dead and to suffer knowing he may have caused Winston's death, he better watch his step or none of them would survive this.

The glass of amber liquid he had been holding smashed into the cold fireplace, "Remember who you are talking to BOY." His face was a shade darker with rage; Chance could tell the old man's blood pressure was up as much as his had been. Good.

About that time a knock interrupted and someone entered with a tray of sandwiches. Chance recognized the help and saw their eyes widen as they recognized him, he turned and gave them a smile hidden from the old man. He had always gotten along well with the staff here, he was one who would visit and talk to them in their domain, not ignore them like the others.

As the guard followed him in, probably in hopes of sharing the meal, Chance took the opportunity as they passed to slide the phone back into his pocket. No sense sending up an alert early that a phone was missing, he would lift another one later when needed. The help left closing the door silently behind him.

Although he had no appetite, Chance availed himself of the food as he noticed the old man rolling out a map of the area. He wandered over as the growling voice addressed him, "We believe he is hold up in an area, it is about 20 miles from here."

"What's his name, his business?"

"It doesn't matter for what you have to do"

The old frustration of six years ago bubbled under the surface as he was treated like a child, as in the past. He tamped it down, "Good, can you have the chopper ready with a pilot at dawn; I want to fly out and check it out?"

"Sure" The old man went back to his desk and resumed his busy work, indicating he was finished with the discussion.

"So should I expect to have an escort the whole time I am here?" He eyed the guards.

"Of course not, no I trust you. After all, we are both after the same end." There was no hiding the sarcasm there. Chance stifled the urge to roll his eyes and settled for a serious nod of his head without raising his eyes.

"Good, I am going to get some shut eye before dawn" and with that he withdrew from the room, headed down the hall in the direction he new some spare rooms should be. He heard a guard walk out in the hall to observe him as he left then a growl from the old man recalled him back into the room. Chance knew just because he physically had no one following him, the security monitors were more than enough to keep tabs on his whereabouts. He hoped Guerrero was following the plan, he would need him quickly. He couldn't help but scan the area, wondering if Baptiste was around anywhere or somehow still being held in federal custody. Somehow he doubted that.

Winston had no idea where he was or even if he was still in the US. His questioning had so far been of a standard type, ask about the book and work him over some with a repeat cycle. His worst injury he could claim to have suffered amounted to only bruises and cuts, with some bruised ribs. They had left him alone now for a few hours and he wondered if everyone was on break, that made him chuckle out loud until his ribs protested. Perhaps it was a distraction that drew everyone away. It had occurred to him that perhaps it was a rescue that had drawn them away; he tried not to cling to that thought too close as it would weaken his resolve to remain silent if it proved false.

The other nagging thought pushing its way into his forethoughts was that they were getting ready to move on to more drastic measures. He tried to push that thought away also but it stole his breath and he forced his mind to other matters. Glancing around him, he went back to examining the room. The room he was in was definitely made to hold prisoners; they were not improvising with some regular accommodations here. The room was very sparse, with only two chairs including the one he was attached to. A table sat in a corner with various tools and ropes strewn across it. No decorations were anywhere nor were their any windows.

The door looked to be thick and heavy, with hinges located on the outside contrary to standard building codes. With no lock mechanism apparent from the inside either. Whatever location he was at it was a place used to holding people against their will.

He heard footsteps coming and he immediately felt himself tense, causing the ropes to bite even tighter into his flesh. He took as deep a breath as he could and tried to relax as the door swung open. The man full of questions from their office came in followed by a nicely dressed one carrying a bag and a couple of guards. Of course he wasn't as nicely dressed as his host which caused Winston to smirk at the thought of a fashioned concerned criminal.

"Glad to see the direness of your situation hasn't dampened your mood" the sharp dressed man approached and bent down to come nose to nose with him. "Well, you are either very determined to take this information to your grave or I have made an error and you do not know anything. At any length we will determine that shortly. My associate here will lead us on another route of questioning to which you will not be as resilient."

Winston looked around the speaker to see his companion using the table to unload items from his bag, rubber tubing, syringe, bottles of liquid and a taser. Winston shuddered. He didn't know which he was more concerned with, the drugs or the taser. His secret or lack thereof might not be safe much longer. Staying as silent as he had since this began he simply met his opponents eyes with a gaze that shared no friendliness at all.

He tried not to tense as the pseudo doctor came over to inspect his patient, then he turned and directed the guards to untie one of Winston's hands from the back of the chair and tie it to the arm of the chair. Winston made life as difficult as he could for them but only received a blow to the side of his head in return. Dazed it was easy for his hand to be forced into position. With his head ringing, he toyed with the notion of trying to push them to a point that they might knock him unconscious. At least that would delay their plans, but his time to make the decision was gone as he was strapped down tightly. He tried to relax his body and mind as the needle approached, taking his mind to another place. Perhaps if he put himself in another state of mind, concentrating on something from his youth it would screw with things, he didn't know but it was worth a try. As he felt the needle pierce his skin with a sharp prick he let his mind wander back to his youth and playing stickball in the street.

Guerrero towel dried his hair as he glanced for the hundredth time at the phone to see if any text messages had arrived. To say it had been a long 24 hours was such a gross understatement it almost made him snort. He looked around to make sure he was truly alone and no one witnessed his seeming insanity.

Glancing at the phone again, he sobered up and silently cursed the waiting. He knew all three of them hated the inactivity of being the back up or just monitoring situations. Chance made sure he was always on the front lines of a case, thus avoiding the wait a majority of the time. Guerrero had to give Winston some sympathy as he probably racked up the most waiting time during cases.

For Guerrero, he always kept into something interesting, whether he was working a case with Chance or doing his own freelancing. So while he didn't chalk up as much action time as Chance he was also uncomfortable being out of the loop as he was now. Throwing the towel down and getting dressed, he slid the phone into a pocket and looked over his gear that was ready.

He plopped down on the couch and considered getting some sleep. After his swim in the ocean he was feeling exhausted. He leaned back into the couch and let his head fall back and felt himself drifting off into quiet oblivion.

Something tried to draw him back to the land of the living. He realized it was his pocket vibrating, and smiling to himself he shifted and pulled it out and open. The number 2 flashed at him. He let his mind fly back over the years to remember the old man's mansion the number referred to.

So much for sleep. Reaching for his other phone he dialed the number for his transportation that was waiting on stand by. After a few terse words they agreed to meet at the airfield in 30 minutes. Shaking the rest of the sleep out of his head, he started gathering up his bags and locking things up. He could catch some sleep on the trip down to Texas.


	4. Chapter 4

As Chance lay in bed he calculated the earliest he could expect Guerrero to be in the vicinity, once here the next step would be meeting up with him. There were some areas on the grounds that used to be off the radar, something he and Baptiste had discovered and taken advantage of when they wanted to duck out for personal reasons while staying here. He would trust that Guerrero would set up shop once he arrived and get hacked into the video and security systems. It shouldn't be a big issue for him since he was responsible for setting most of them up. From his observations since his arrival it didn't look like a lot of changes had gone on in those areas, really it is hard to improve on the best. This line of thought led him to again wonder about Baptiste and if he was lurking around. As he felt himself drift off to sleep, he took one last look at the chair propped under the door as his security measure.

Mr. GQ waited impatiently for things to proceed.

"Need I remind you this is going to take at least 30 min before you can start asking him questions" the doctor directed at the man in charge as his fingers tapped for a vein and administered the drug.

"I know, I didn't say anything"

"Well your demeanor said otherwise" then he turned back to his patient, observing his body language and flashing a light in his eyes.

After some time he turned back to his audience "You may begin" and he stepped back out of the way.

"What is your name?"

"Laverne Winston" came the slightly slurred replied, a frown graced the questioners face but he continued.

"What is your occupation?"

"I don't have a job." This reply caused his frown to deepen as his anger rose with his impatience, but perhaps this man felt his retirement constituted that.

"Do you know why you are here?"

"To answer questions?" Winston asked innocently, so innocently that Mr. GQ began to wonder if he was being played. He turned back to the man hanging in the back ground," are you sure you gave him enough? "

The doctor shrugged his shoulders in the affirmative," I am sure, this stuff can be tricky and not everyone responds to it the same,"

"Well then up his dose I want some answers and now," with another shrug he stepped forward and gave him another shot, which elicited a groan from Winston as the strange out of body feeling he was having was bordering on making him feel ill. He rolled his head back and forth in protest to the feelings flooding through his veins.

"Now I want to know what happened to the book," his voice increasing in volume.

"Don't know what you are talking about," the words came out slow and were hard to form. For that matter just understanding what was being asked of him was getting more difficult. The last thing he remembered was the teeth rattling hit across his face before his head lolled forward and he gave up the fight to stay conscious.

As morning approached and the sun shone through Chance's second floor window he heard a light rapping on his door. He got up, still clad in his clothes from last night and "unlocked" his chair lock to open the door. Outside he saw Juan, waiting with a tray of breakfast and a wrapped package. He stepped back and allowed him entry as their eyes met and both men smiled at each other. He forgot how fond he was of this part of his family and wondered what conclusions they had draw at his sudden departure so long ago. Juan bowed as he came in and set the tray on a side dresser, prattling on in Spanish regarding his breakfast and a change of clothes he had brought. Amongst those sentences he slipped in a couple regarding his pleasure at seeing Chance again and that he was looking well. Chance replied in kind, also in Spanish, with a slight apology to his sudden disappearance. Juan stopped for a second and then said "We were glad for you and hope you have found contentment". Chance nodded his appreciation and when their eyes met again Juan's drew his down to the napkin on the tray.

"I hope you find what you are looking for here." He said with double meaning as he backed away and took his leave of the room. Chance eyed the tray again with curiosity as he headed to the bathroom to wake up.

A few minutes later he sauntered back to the tray and began to dig into the breakfast, he grinned as he saw some of his favorite items stacked there. Finishing what was on the plate he picked up the napkin and let its contents fall into his lap as he wiped his mouth. An earpiece fell into his lap, and he quickly pawned it into his pocket as he stood up and approached the slight privacy of the small bathroom again. Once inside he slipped it into his ear and then began singing a song as he straightened his room. It was only moments before a sleepy sounding voice sighed "about time you got up"

After his chat with Guerrero this morning, Chance tried to keep his demeanor from showing how much better he was feeling. He knew that would be the first downfall dealing with the old man, he was ruthless and he had seen him upend people who thought they had the upper hand with him by pulling out some plan even those close to him knew nothing about. Guerrero had worked fast last night, once he had arrived, finding a van to use as a base and getting hacked into the house security system.

Guerrero like Chance had also kept up a good repertoire with the help. Guerrero was sure he was undetected and actually laughed when Chance asked about the level of security the house currently had, simply pointing to the ease at which he had snuck the earpiece to Chance as proof of their laxness. He was currently scanning all the systems for any signs of useful information. They had scheduled a meet for mid morning once Chance convinced the old man he was out on his reconnaissance. He was sure the old man was sending him on a wild goose chase and he was determined to stay one step ahead of him in this deadly game.

His first stop on his way back to check in was a stop by the kitchen, Juan's help this morning made him realize where his real opportunities lay, he knew the staff always had a line of information on things going on around the property, simply because anything unusual going on required their attention to food or request for service at the very least.

As he entered the kitchen from a side door he heard a gasp and had to smile as Lucia moved swiftly to envelope him in an embrace. Her motherly form had aged gracefully over the few years he had not seen her, and he lingered in her embrace as he fondly remembered all the moments she had been a support to him. He heard Juan admonishing her as he extracted himself from her grip and kissed the top of her head. She collected herself and gave his arms a firm squeeze as she wiped a few tears and turned back to her work, rattling off a fuss at him for being in her way. He reached around her and snatched a bite of fruit from a plate. As she slapped his hand away she quietly remarked, "The brother is here also."

That was what he wanted to know, the help had always referred to he and Baptiste as brothers because they spent so much time together and he knew this was the place to find out if he was here. Nodding his thanks for all things received this morning he gave her another kiss as he left. Walking out of the kitchen he turned left down the hall but not before he saw an armed guard disappearing down a side hall. He had looked familiar. As Chance passed the hallway the guard had disappeared down he glanced for one more look but it was empty. He let it run in the back of his mind on why he looked familiar, was it someone from his past years here or something else.

He headed to the library and heard voices coming from the office as he approached, he paused a moment trying to catch any conversation but it was too muffled. He pushed the door open and was rewarded with immediate silence from a couple of surprised faces. He could see the reprimand form on the old man's lips for barging in but it was held back and instead replaced with a glance at the clock and a sarcastic "Glad you could join us".

Reinforcing his belief that he was being shoved aside and kept busy for the day he heard him growl, "Your chopper is waiting on the pad for you and he knows where to go. I will check some other leads out here until you return."

Chance had already weighed out what his expected response was to be and even though he had no intention of going he kept up his part in this play.

"What you expect me to go with no backup or help to scout out this area?"

"You gather information today, determine if the book is there," he paused "and your friend and then report back, we can plan an assault once you have this information. If you find they are not there then I may have some other leads to check when you return."

"Do I have to go unarmed also?" he grumbled, holding his hands out to his side to indicate his helplessness and he also moved closer to the desk to get a look at what was laid out.

"Grab something from the armory and get out."

Those last two words were almost at full volume, causing the other person at the desk to reel back even though he wasn't the intended target.

"Maybe I can help out with what you have," Chance remarked with a slight smile, stepping even closer.

"GET OUT NOW!"

"You better back off dude" he heard through his earpiece,

"Oh, alright" he answered to both parties at the same time. "Just remember I don't work for you anymore and have my own priorities." He turned quickly and stalked off, Guerrero's slow version of the warning "dude" ringing in his ear.

He stepped outside into the crisp morning. "Meet me in 30 min at the Wellhole."

"Got you." Guerrero acknowledged.

He approached the helicopter and climbed in; as they took off he put on his headset and gave the pilot his instructions as the moved away from the house.

"Set me down in that field up there, I want you to fly your intended course today, stay around the location all day. I want you to be a distraction while I check it out from the ground."

He saw the hesitation cross the pilots face as he considered this change in his instructions but then shrugged his shoulders and said "Whatever you want."

Dust swirled around them as he felt the helicopter settle into the dirt. As he exited he said "Pick me back up here at 1700 hours." With a nod from the pilot he shut the door and headed toward what appeared to be a once populated area. The whirling of the blades increased as the copter rose back up into the cloudless sky and headed off. As he approached the run down area and a bar that was closed up this time of day, he saw the familiar Wellhole sign hanging slightly askew and barely readable. It brought back a few memories of some unwinding over beers that occurred here after successful assignments. Down the block he also saw the only vehicle around, a van. He headed toward it, sure it was his ride. As he climbed in he saw relief flash across Guerrero face briefly and realized despite the short time since this began they were all still edgy.

He quickly turned back to his computers complaining, "This is on the edge of my range here to stay connected to the house," but he continued to pull up information. "I have been scanning all the video and audio feeds in the house," he glanced at Chance. "Baptiste is here."

"I know, we will cross that bridge…later"

"Security seems unchanged from when I set it up. Lots of cameras, if we plan anything I can take care of looping those feeds so we go unnoticed. There seems to be more people than normal staying here and some of the cameras on the back side of the property are down for some reason. Not sure if it is lack of maintenance or intentional. What about you, have you come up with anything other than sparring with the old man?"

"As I see you have done, Juan and the others seem willing to help us."

"Yeah I saw you in the kitchen this morning insuring you keep your favorite meals coming."

Chance grinned, "Hey guys got to do. Speaking of that I saw someone else that looked familiar but I….wait I know where I have seen him," his face got excited, "I saw one of the guards from the attack on the office, he was in the hallway in the main house. Damn, I had a feeling they might be working together but if he is actually staying on the grounds, perhaps Winston is being kept here also. Maybe that is why they have the monitoring turned off in that area also,"

"Let me work on bringing them back online perhaps I can pinpoint his location if he is here. Why would they be working together? And staged that elaborate assault and have the old man come in as a hero? "

"Not sure perhaps they knew getting the book wouldn't be as easy as asking a question or two, maybe to get us back here on their turf. Not sure yet. But it makes sense as to why the old man tried to send me off on a wild goose chase away from the house today, if they are holding up here."

"Did you have any problems getting the item?"

Guerrero rolled his eyes, "of course not," he digs through his pack and pulls out a book, hidden in the dust jacket he pulls out a single piece of paper. Slowly he extends it out for Chance to take.

"Thanks," after a serious glance at the page, Chance folds and tucks the paper up, sliding it into the top of his boot. Looking at the spot the paper disappeared into, Guerrero asked, "What is your plan with that?"

"For now I just want some proof if I need it, in case it comes to that for Winston. But I am thinking now I might be able to turn the two against each other if I can get a face to face with Mr. GQ. "

"You are playing with fire,"

"Always open to plan B," but Guerrero didn't have a reply back to that.

"Let's head back to the house, I want to do some scouting around and you can get started on those broken cameras." Chance moved to the driver seat and started up the van as Guerrero continued to work. Shortly they pulled up on an old rutted road, barely used. "Park right there under that camera."

Chance looked at the camera with doubt but Guerrero just sighed. "I got it covered," so Chance proceeded to park in what appeared to be plain sight.

"Hey, if someone should spot the van, they won't give it a second thought since it is right by their security system."

Chance laughed when he looked at the fence and saw the same slight cut in the fence that had been there for 10 years, since he and Baptiste had discovered it and used it to their advantage anytime they needed to. That thought sobered him as he knew Baptiste being here was dangerous, if anyone knew his patterns here at the house it would be him.

Guerrero sensed his thoughts as he said, "You know I haven't seen him on any of the feeds yet but I have heard his name mentioned quite frequently. Makes you wonder if he is in the area with the broken feeds."

Chance double checked the gun and ammunition he had from the armory, making sure he was not being set up with it. "Stay in touch" Guerrero cautioned as Chance slid out the back door and through the fence.

Chance knew the area Guerrero was referring to with the suspiciously broken feeds and headed that way, it consisted of an old garage and house that was used for maintenance work when he last saw it. His mind tumbled over thoughts of Baptiste and the old man and his motives, the identity of the mystery man, but mostly on what was happening to Winston. One of the better things that had happened to him since he started his journey away from this life, he knew Winston was tough but didn't know if his past history had prepared him for these experiences. He just hoped when this was all settled he still could call him friend.

It took about 20 min for him to get within site of the house, as he stood observing the area Guerrero popped into his ear. "Appears the cameras have been taken offline, not broken, it is going to take me about 30 min to get them back online undetected."

"Well I can tell you that there is definitely activity here, about a half a dozen vehicles and guards surrounding the buildings. Now why would you need guards guarding something on the compound?"

"I am sure you are going to find out, just be careful."

"That is my middle name," Chance quipped, grinning as he imaged the eye roll Guerrero was doing now, confirmed when Guerrero shot back, "whatever you believe dude, you just make up your middle name as you feel like it anyway. " Planning his attach Chance chuckled loud enough for Guerrero to pick up as he moved ahead.

As he approached the house he observed the patrol doing radio checks, well so much for just brute force attack, he stopped and listened for awhile, catching their radio codes for checks before advancing on the guard coming close to his position. As he passed his crouched position he shot up and silently pulled him down into the arroyo he had been hiding in. He made quick work of incapacitating him and pulled the guards clothes over his own. Adjusting the radio he double checked the guard was secure and leapt up to continue his patrol.

He cast a critical eye over the house for a chance to gain entry. Looking in a window he confirmed the garage was empty and quickly slid into the side door. He paused as he waited for the upcoming radio check; once he had that out of the way he switched off the radio and left it in the garage. Opening the door he started down the hall, checking rooms as he went. As he approached the center of the house he heard conversation and footsteps, he stopped out of sight and let it clear by him and out the front door. One voice he recognized as Mr. GQ, the other he didn't recognize. Confirming all was clear he slipped down the basement stairs they had just exited from.

Winston awoke to repeated slaps across the face, only annoying at this point as he was sure his face wasn't up to feeling too much from its numb state. He mumbled some incoherent words which at least brought him relief from the hand.

"Mr. Winston I want the location of that book."

"I returned that book to the library" Winston managed to form the words as his head rolled form side to side. He was pretty sure that wasn't the right answer, but he didn't know what he right answer was either. A hand suddenly pushed against his forehead slamming his neck back at an awkward angle it wasn't meant to go. A slurred "Hey" was the best he could manage back.

"He doesn't know anything I am telling you, with what is in his system he would not be able to resist talking about it, from his responses I don't think he even knows one exist."

Reversing his hand on Winston's head a very frustrated questioner slammed his head back down against his chest. Winston may not know about the book but he did know he was about to get sick from all this head motion.

"Then I guess he has outlived his usefulness," he picked up a towel from a table and wiped his hands, both literally and figuratively. The doctor packed up what items he had brought and both proceeded out the door, the electronic lock snapping back into place. Winston felt an urgency that he needed to do something, but right now those coherent thoughts escaped him.

As Chance moved along the hallway in the basement he examined each door. Guerrero piped into his ear, "Okay, I am in."

"Just in time, can you open these doors? Some of the locks have ids on them" Those he could open he checked and locked ones he directed Guerrero to open via the security system. There were only 3 doors left to check, his hope began to wane as he considered what his next move would need to be if he found nothing here. He read off the lock id to Guerrero and waited for the click signaling the lock was released, and then cautiously pulled the door open.

"Bingo" he said for Guerrero sake as he entered, eyes skimming the room for threats as he made straight for the chair holding his friend. He quickly began cutting through the ropes as he tried to rouse Winston. He ran a quick eye over his face and only hoped the rest of Winston didn't look as bad as that. He placed a few slaps around his cheeks, trying to avoid the bad areas. The way he was acting he was sure he had been drugged.

Winston wondered how many times he was going to awake to someone slapping his face. He tried to move his face away from the hand as he made protesting noises from his throat.

"What!" finally formed as he tried to focus his eyes. His brain processed a familiar voice speaking to him this time and the adrenaline rush it provided to his body caused his brain to focus with more clarity this time.

" Cchance.."He heaved a sigh of relief, and tried to stay sitting in the chair as he felt his arms and legs begin tingling with the return of blood as his bindings hit the floor.

"Winston can you hear me? I need your help here buddy, I need some help to get you out of here."

"Yeah….Yeah" he began taking deep breaths, suppressing groans with the pain his ribs were feeling at the deep breaths, his head becoming clearer with each one however. Having a little motivation did wonders for you sometimes.

Guerrero's voice popped back around, "Uh oh, a guard and the boss man are returning, coming down the stairs." Chance head shot up as he looked for options, which were nonexistent at this point. He knew the only way out of the basement was past them, and with Winston in this state it wasn't going to be a success.

"I can lock the door," Guerrero offered.

"No it's not like I can get out another way here. Maybe time to make my play." He turned back to Winston,

"Winston, Winston listen I need you to stay quiet and get ready to move if I need you to. Winston nodded his head, eyes still coming in and out of focus. Chance quickly pulled the missing page from its hiding place and shoved it into his pocket, then stood up to face the door as he heard the beep of the security lock.

There was a moment's hesitation as both men opened the door to find the room not quite as it had been left. The guard immediately brought up his weapon and trained it on Chance as he stood in front of Winston. Chance kept his posture relaxed as he brought his hands up in a gesture of de-escalation; waiting for the next move.

"Well seems my brother underestimated his ability to control you. Let me introduce myself, I am Jobert's brother Jack."

Surprise was quickly replaced with narrowed eyes on Chance's face as he put those puzzle pieces together with what he already suspected. Then he shrugged his shoulders, hand still raised and away from his body.

"Overconfidence was always a weakness for him."

"I still don't have what I want so you understand that I can't let you leave with your friend, although I seem to have miscalculated his value." He glanced over at Winston who simply sat glaring, hands gripping the chair tightly, partially in anger, partially to keep him upright and ready for whatever Chance needed.

"Really, what if I told you what you want is already on this property?" Chance shot back. Now it was Jack's turn to show surprise and arched his eyebrows at Chance.

"Do tell,"

"Your 'brother'" he spat the word "has always had it."

Jack was already shaking his head in denial, before Chance even finished the sentence.

"No, no please don't insult me with such a simply ruse. If Jobert had the book why would he go to all this trouble?" He gestured to their surroundings.

Chance looked around and pretended to think, "Well let's see he got you to help in tracking me down, luring me to this location and I would imagine he still has a little power over you as long as the book is lost."

He saw the doubt start to cross his mind, good, time to add the "proof".

"Still sounds like a great tale to me," was the cautious response.

"What if I said I had proof, that I had seen the book, actually touched it?" Chance felt a little rush as he saw his plan working.

Anger became the predominant emotion on Jack's face and his voice lost any civility he had been pretending as he said. "If you have that you might have bought yourself some time."

Chance slowly reached his hand down toward his pocket, Jack stopped him and taking the gun from the guard to keep Chance covered, he motioned his guard to step forward and empty the pocket. Chance raised his hands again and let the guard pull the paper from his pocket, handing it back to his boss. The face pinched into a frown as he study the sheet, flipping it over to see both sides of it.

"Why didn't you just take the book?"

"What and have everyone looking for me, not to mention that book is nothing but trouble. I just wanted proof, enough to get my friend out of here and leave you two to each other."

"That is not how you felt about it before,"

"Well six years is a long time to think about the price you pay for something."

Keeping the gun pointed at Chance he instructed the guard. "Search him" Chance was a little disappointed to feel his gun be lifted but had little time to think about it as Jack motioned toward the door, "Let's you and I pay Jobert a visit. If this is true then I have no qualms with you and your friend leaving," he motioned again and Chance moved toward the door. Winston tensed beside him but Chance gave him a look that said stay put. Winston didn't like the instructions but he also wasn't sure how much help he could be right now.

Turning back to the guard, "Stay here and secure the place, find out how he got in here."

Chance put some distance between him and Jack as they headed down the hall. Under his breath he instructed Guerrero "Get Winston and you out of here."

Guerrero responded somewhat hesitantly," On it, "

Chance was glad to see that there only appeared to be one other guard upstairs and Jack motioned him to accompany them as they headed to a vehicle. Chance's mind worked over the possible scenarios that would happen when these two started hashing out the truth. He sighed slightly, relieved that he had Winston out of the spotlight now.

"You drive," Jack instructed as he kept him covered on the drive back to the main house.

He saw surprise on a few of the guard's faces as he got out of the car, some glancing toward the helicopter pad that was still empty, remembering that he was suppose to be off the property. Chance also imagined part of the surprise was that Jobert's brother was not supposed to be showing up at the house. As they entered the study Chance could see that some warning had made it ahead of their arrival as the old man's mouth was set in a grim line.

"What is going on here, you are suppose to be…," he paused as Jack came in, causing him to stand up "You are not suppose to be…" he continued even louder.

To Chance's surprise Jack seemed to have the upper hand with Jobert, he began talking overriding the outburst and Jobert's anger subsided.

"Look who I found out on my side of the ranch. Seems he has been telling me quite the tale regarding where the book is."

"He has it." Jobert's mood improved as he leaned forward in anticipation of the affirmative answer to his question. "Good we can end thi…"

But again he was cut off, "He says it is here in the house and always has been." Both men began to concentrate on each other and Chance took the opportunity to begin sidling to the side of the two brothers, out of their way as their argument escalated.

About that time Guerrero voice cut in, "Winston and I are in the van, heading your way." Chance had to catch himself not to yell no and draw attention back to himself. He tried to whisper back "Just get off the property" but wasn't sure if Guerrero heard or heeded him.

He looked back to the two men in the room. He had hoped that these two would get so caught up in accusing each other he could escape and it looked like that was exactly what was happening.

He began backing toward the door, as Jack waived the ripped page in the air.

"What makes you think he doesn't have it and didn't rip it out himself? You are smarter than this.."

"You are the ultimate player of pawns dear brother and this smacks of exactly what you would do."

Chance stopped his retreat as Jack turned back toward him, pistol not quite pointed at him.

"Where did you find it?" Chance motioned his head in the general direction he knew the safe was in, "the safe."

"Open the safe, Jobert," he commanded.

"No, this is just a ruse and I won't play along," Jobert began to shuffle through an open drawer.

Jack leaned in closer and dropped his voice. "Open the safe, now." Both men were squared off across the desk from each other.

"You have pushed your way around here long enough, book or no book we are done with each other!" Jobert raised his eyes to Jack and saw Chance over Jack's shoulder headed toward the door. He pulled the gun out of the drawer and raised it up to point at Chance. "This is your doing." he shouted. Jack, not realizing Jobert was after Chance, mistook Jobert's pointed gun to be threatening him. He snapped off a quick shot with the gun he had taken from Chance, hitting his brother in the chest. This caused Jobert's shot at Chance to pull up short.

Chance was almost to the door and he turned the handle shoving his shoulder into the door to make a quick exit. He heard the gunshot, causing him to push the door open faster and almost tumble into the hall. He was in midsentence to Guerrero, with a louder repeat of his previous command to them to get out of there.

"Both of you get off the property NOW. I will…" The door stopped in its path half way open and Chance came face to face with Baptiste whose surprised face would have been comical in any other circumstance. Hearing the gunshot he was drawing his gun as he barreled into the room. Chance recovered first and gave the door an extra shove, pushing Baptiste off balance as he ran through. Glancing down both hallways he saw guards coming from all directions, everyone alerted by the gunfire. Glancing up the stairs he started up them two at a time toward the second floor hallway.

Baptiste glanced in the library, shocked at what he saw. Jobert was slumped back in his chair bleeding from a chest wound while their visitor swung around, gun in hand, bringing it up to bear on Baptiste, a quick shot from his own gun put the other man down on the floor. He swung around and started issuing commands.

"Get the doctor for those two," he motioned back inside. At another he said "follow me" and glanced up the stairs. Seeing he had a fleeting shot he snapped off a couple of rounds at the retreating figure.

Guerrero was starting to open his mouth in protest to Chance's commands; he had heard Chance whisper something while the old man argued with someone in the background but didn't catch what he said. Now he knew, and he knew he was not leaving without Chance. Winston had the same determined look on his face, even though it was all he could do to help Guerrero get him to the van and stay in his seat. Winston's breath was coming in short gasp and Guerrero was just hoping he had no injuries life threatening at this point.

Sounds of gunshots and scuffling came over the link as Chance's breathing changed to that of someone running. "What is going on?" But no answer came back, nothing but more gunfire and a painful grunt.

Chance headed down the hallway, he knew the only exit off this floor was a stairway at the other end, one that led down into the kitchen, the servants used as access. He also knew Baptiste was fully aware of this also. He glanced at his shoulder, and stumbled to a stop along the hallway, leaning against the wall as he explored the extent of his bullet wound. Baptiste was a good shot, thankfully this only winged him. It looked like it went in and out under the collarbone. Painful and bleeding it made his head buzz. He pushed himself back upright and started at a slow run down the rest of the hallway. He had an idea forming in his mind if he could get into the kitchen before anyone else.

As he came down the steps, Juan and two other workers in the kitchen looked at him with frightened and startled looks. He could imagine he looked out of control. Juan moved forward to help him but he shook his head and in as forceful a voice as he could manage he instructed"Get Out, Now." Juan hesitated briefly but soon followed the other two when Chance gave a soft please. As they left through the back door he began spinning the gas stove burner controls to the on position. Soon he could hear the faint hiss as natural gas began to fill the room. The slow push of the hallway door stopped him and he leaned back against a counter as Baptiste cautiously entered the room, gun pointed at him.

"Well here we are again; we seem destined to finish what we didn't so many years ago."

Chance shrugged his shoulders, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Baptiste continued "They are both dead," Chance's face showed a little surprise at that, and maybe some other emotions, he didn't have time now to dwell on that.

"Did you know they were brothers?"

This got a surprised look from Baptiste. "No I didn't, irony there. "

"Guess you will be the heir apparent here now. "

"Possibly. What are we going to do about this situation?"

"I don't know, you seem to be the one in charge with the gun."

"Not sure I got to pay you back for my stay with the Feds."

Chance glanced down at his shoulder, "Well we could consider it even now."

"True" but the gun didn't waver from its position. Baptiste glanced around, becoming aware that something was not right in the kitchen. Chance knew his time was running out on his diversion, he just hoped the gas had built up enough to work, and that he survived.

"Hope you don't mind if I excuse myself from this reunion."

Baptiste eyes narrowed as he tried to figure Chance's angle on escape as Chance reached behind him and turned one of the stove knobs to the ignite position and took a dive over the counter as the built up gas ignited and flashed across the kitchen. His downward motion to the floor was accelerated by the explosion and he felt his head make contact with something hard.

Guerrero and Winston listened to the exchange, both jumped at the sudden explosion, causing the van to swerve onto the shoulder of the drive for a few moments. Guerrero began an almost frantic call over the comlink.

" Chance, Chance, Chance, can you hear me?"

Winston looked at Guerrero, "Do you know where they were in the house?"

"Yeah, I am going to head to the back entrance, if he is getting out that will be the way."

Chance coughed into awareness as smoke surrounded him and he opened his eyes to see his shirt sleeve smoldering. "Ahhh," he started and began to beat the embers out and off his arm.

Guerrero's voice flooded with relief when he heard this and tried again," Chance can you hear me?"

"Yeah," he rasped out, "meet me in back of the kitchen." He cautiously stuck his head above the counter and was relieved to see no sign of Baptiste or anyone else. He crawled on his knees for a few minutes then staggered up on two legs using anything he could for support as he stumbled against the back door and slammed it the rest of the way open, more smoke rolling out around him. He tried to take in some fresh air but couldn't control his coughing or the blurriness from his watering eyes. He could hear the roar of an engine and hoped it was friendly.

Winston shouted out "There!" before halting his use of his lungs at the painful result. Guerrero nodded and skillfully guided the van up next to the door, slamming it into park as he hopped into the back and slid the side door open. Guerrero was the only thing standing between Chance and another concussion as his out of control tumble toward the van ended with his entrance through the side door and had him sprawled ungracefully on the floor, breath coming hard and eyes closed. Guerrero was torn between giving him more attention now and the need to make an escape. Chance's quiet, "go", helped make his decision. He patted him on the leg as he stepped over him back to the driver's seat of the van and floored the gas pedal. Winston did his best to turn in his chair to see how his partner looked but injuries were limiting his movements. Without moving a muscle Chance asked "you okay?"

"Yeah, I'll live, you?"

"Me too." He felt the van rock from side to side as they made their way off the property and let a slight smile come to his face as his new family was safe once more.

As Winston sat at his desk, cleaning up and sorting items that had piled up in their absence, he kept glancing over toward the couch. Chance had been sitting there for hours this morning, not moving, not saying anything, just staring, usually in Winston's direction. Finally when he couldn't take it anymore he yelled. "Hey, will you bring me a drink?"

Chance jumped off the couch, "Sure" and he disappeared into the kitchen to return with lightening speed for someone with injuries to deposit a can on Winston's desk. Motioning with his head he indicated the mess, "Making any progress?"

"Some, why don't you sit and tell me what is on your mind." He saw Chance's face flash through denial but then settle into resignation as he unceremoniously plopped his form into the chair across from his desk, still being careful of his arm in its sling.

"I don't think I am cut out for this, I am tired of watching other people pay the price for my mistakes."

Winston contemplated the standard response he could jump in with. Tell him not to be ridiculous, that he was making a rush decision. Instead he took his time and thought for a few minutes before responding. He could tell by Chance's increased interest in him that Chance had expected the usual response also and was actually interested to hear what Winston thought as he had to take time to think about it.

"Now I see that as you looking at the glass half full. I like to look at it this way. When I think about all the people that made bad decisions and didn't have to pay the price because you stepped in and helped them, that is the difference I like to remember."

Chance gave Winston a smile of thanks. He did really enjoy this new life of his.


End file.
